Partially bare chested, his muscles were contracting each time his was moving his chicken tray passing it along the guests. He was covered in sand, the wrinkles on his tanned face were highlighted by the white dust of a playa storm and yet, despite his leather skirt and military boots he was utterly sexy. The SuperLuminova on the hour hands was so bright that it drove the attention of a man with a 5 o’clock shadow beard who asked if I happened to be more interested in his chicken skewers than wondering when my next hypothetical meeting was next. I looked at my watch only to realize that 20 minutes had passed since I had arrived. She was meowing every 20 seconds to express her happiness and gratitude. Without realizing it, I was attending a traditional Shabbat dinner in the middle of the desert under a makeshift tent with wine (not sure it was Kiddush), challah bread, inspired thoughts and definitely no light nor driving or working! I poured some wine into my neighbor’s cup, his name was Peanut Crunch while I accepted the offer of Kitty Catie who filled my glass with lemon infused water. But because Burning Man is a magical place – we have already talked about this – food started appearing from God only knows where. The thought of riding my bike to get to my RV (Recreational Vehicule) to cook myself some dinner was inconceivable. It was getting dark and I was getting hungry. Wearing a white leotard with a pastel and glittery cape lined with blue fur matched with perfection the 20-cm high fake leather boot wedges and the 42-mm white Bubble set with a white mother-of-pearl dial and SuperLuminova hours hands and markers… ideal to get a light source in the middle of nowhere, if you ask me. That specific moment I looked like a unicorn that had cuddled with Leloo from the Fifth Element. Music was coming from afar leaving only the sound of serenity penetrating my dusty yet spirited body. Candles were lit up and placed in hand-crafted candle jars large and colorful cushions were placed on the floor for everyone to sit in an instant, the large piece of wood that served as a table was covered with chandeliers and flowers. When the dial of my Bubble somehow indicated that the sun was shortly going to bed and so should I, I escaped to follow the dust in the sound of music … One day, I landed in a mystical place where dozen of people covered in sand were praying hand in hand around a sacred table. I realized that wearing a watch in the middle of the Burning Man desert did not serve me right. Spending a day with a Bubble watch only for its design rather than its horological function emphasized the fact that I had landed in a place where the notion of time did not matter.
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